Dust on my
Charcoal
Canvas.
Just brush it off
A night of peace
A galaxy of blown stars.
An attempt at an imperfect perfection.

But I wipe it away, anyway.
My constellation is too dangerous
for Anyone Else.

So I **** my night heaven with light pollution,
And diminish my stars.
And I'm just a canvas
A Blank,
          Empty,
                    Canvas.
Now, look what we've done.